


Gavin of the Reeds

by KH310-S (Author_of_Kheios)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amanda adopts Connor and Nines, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't be fooled by the happy ending, Don't read the last chapter if you want a happy ending, Fairies, Fowler and Amanda are related, Gavin is an actual Fairy, Gen, Hank and Tina are Fairies too, Little Bit of Fairy Lore, Lots of Angst, Nines takes care of Gavin, Nines takes care of everyone really, There's a secret chapter at the end, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_of_Kheios/pseuds/KH310-S
Summary: His first memory is a vague sense of satisfaction. A warm pervasive feeling that settles protectively in the core of his being and spreads with creeping fingers to the rest of him. He knows he exists, knows he has purpose, even if he doesn't know yet what that purpose is."Oh hello!" a low voice greets him. "I thought fairies were a myth."Fairy. It fits; that's what he is: a fairy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello! Welcome, or welcome back if you've read some of my stuff.
> 
> This started out as a weird little idea thrown out by a friend on the [Detroit: New Era](https://discord.gg/x6kwHe4) server I'm a part of, and it kinda grew into a thing... So now you all get to enjoy it as well!
> 
> If you're interested in seeing what other weird little ideas we talk about, come check out the server, and when you're done reading, don't forget to comment and give kudos!

His first memory is a vague sense of satisfaction. A warm pervasive feeling that settles protectively in the core of his being and spreads with creeping fingers to the rest of him. He knows he exists, knows he has purpose, even if he doesn't know yet what that purpose is.

"Oh hello!" a low voice greets him, inundating him with _sound_ ; twittering, rustling, chirping, buzzing, distant roaring...

He slowly opens eyes he only just noticed he has, and bright, vivid _colours_ assault him. Green, olive, red, pink, yellow, _blue_ ― so much blue above ― white, grey, more green, orange, ochre, violet, cerulean, brown, green...

A man. A human. He knows it, recognises it; he's not human, but what is he?

The man ― giant; dark skin a deeper, richer brown than the soil below; deep brown gaze verging on black; large, worn hands covered in dirt; soft wrinkles around his eyes; gentle smile welcoming ― reaches out, fingers splayed, palm up.

"I thought fairies were a myth," the man murmurs.

Fairy. It fits; that's what he is: a fairy.

"I think I have some milk in the kitchen? I can't ask your name, right? Can I call you... Gavin instead? You look like a Gavin."

He likes it. Gavin.

"Yes," he says, marvelling at his own voice. It feels so good to speak, to put his thoughts out for others to hear.

"Gavin," the man repeats, smile broadening. "You can call me Fowler. Wait right here and I'll get you some milk."

The man ― Fowler ― stands. He's tall. So tall. Gavin has to tip his head way back to look up at the man's face.

"Fowler," he calls out in a panic as the man walks away. Then he burns with embarrassment when Fowler turns around and waits expectantly.

He just didn't want to be alone.

"...How... did I...?" he asks hesitantly, using the opportunity he's provided himself.

"Get here?" Fowler offers.

"Come into being," Gavin corrects. "I... didn't exist before this moment."

"Hm... I imagine it must be the reeds I just planted." Fowler says, pointing. Gavin turns around and finds himself facing... _green_.

Green. Warmth. Home. _Purpose_.

"Reeds," Gavin says quietly, reverent as he realises his reason for being. "This... This is why I exist. The reeds. I must protect them; they're mine!" He spins around to look up at Fowler again, and the man is chuckling.

"Sure, no problem," he smiles. "All yours. You can have the ones I'm gonna plant tomorrow too. It'll be nice, I think... Having a fairy in my garden."

"Why?" Gavin asks, cocking his head in curiosity.

"Well, for one, you're kinda cute. And two, if you exist, then other fairies must exist, and judging by your reaction to those reeds, I think I can trust you to extend some of that protection to the rest of the garden."

"Yes," Gavin says decisively.

"Good, good," Fowler nods with that ever-present smile. "It'll be nice to have you around... Gavin of the Reeds."

...

The Garden. It's so beautiful. Gavin thrives here. A couple of other fairies have made their home here too; the Garden is a powerful place that calls them into being when the veil betwixt realms in thinnest.

But only when Fowler is tending to it.

Gavin came into being on the Spring Equinox. A few months later, while Fowler was putting the finishing touches on the pond with large lily pads during the Summer Solstice, a new fairy was born. Fowler named her Tina; Tina of the Lilies.

One mild winter the next year, thistles sprung up in the corner of the Garden, and when Fowler went to pull them up so they wouldn't choke the strawberries he planted along the fence, a very grouchy fairy was born, already crabbing about his thistles. Fowler named him Hank, after an old friend, and moved the thistles carefully to a better place in the Garden, clearing out an area just for them, for Hank of the Thistle Patch.

The Garden has become a fairy haven, and Fowler tends to them all whenever he has time away from his job. He answers their endless questions and teaches them about the world outside, and in turn, they bless the other plants in the Garden, weaving a boundary of protection and peace around it, and around Fowler's house.

Fowler's house. Where the fairies love to explore. Even five years, ten years later, they never tire of chasing each other around the nooks and crannies of the house, stealing milk and sugar and greeting Fowler cheerfully whenever he comes home, exhausted and worn; the moment their cheery little voices chime in harmonious greeting, the bone-weary tiredness sheds from him, replaced with quiet contentment as he cleans up whatever mess they've made and calmly answers every eager question they've come up with today.

He never shouts, never curses, never snaps at them or tells them to be quiet, except to request they keep the noise down when he goes to sleep. And he never, ever stops smiling at them.

Until one day, someone else comes home with him. A woman.

At first, the fairies are excited when they sense the newcomer. They scramble from their various hiding places and flutter madly through the house to the entrance hall. But no sooner does Gavin turn the corner than he stops, and Tina and Hank crash into his back.

Fowler is scowling in irritation.

Gavin hisses at the others to _go back, go back_ , and the three of them dart behind the corner again, peeking out to see why Fowler is upset.

The woman with him is much younger ― slender; rich soil skin just shades lighter than Fowler's; raven black braids, so unlike his shiny bald head, all coiled up in a bun on top of her head; piercing dark eyes not nearly so warm as his; fuller lips, but turned down in disapproval ― and cradled in one arm is a bundled child, her other hand holding that of a young boy ― pale skin dotted with freckles; enormous, bark brown eyes staring about in wonder; dust brown fluff a mess on his head, dipping toward his eyes; one tiny finger stuck nervously into a soft, small mouth.

"It's been over ten years, Amanda," Fowler says wearily. "Why now all of the sudden are you coming back? I'm pretty sure you made your feelings toward me rather clear the last time we spoke."

"Because there's no one else who can help me," the woman ― Amanda ― says, her words short and sharp; she doesn't want to be here.

"Ten years ago, you were pretty adamant that your boyfriend... Harold, wasn't it? Harold was enough."

"And _two_ years ago, he broke off our engagement and left me standing at the altar with two boys that we had taken in and promised to raise together!" Amanda looks furious, pained down to her soul.

"Amy... I'm so sorry..." Fowler says softly, reaching for her shoulder, only to have her twist away. He withdraws his hand, sorrow painted on his features, and Gavin almost leaves his hiding place to go comfort him. "Why didn't you come to me then?"

"Because..!" Amanda purses her lips tightly, blinking rapidly. "Because I wanted to prove that I could do this myself! That I didn't need a bastard of a _man_ beside me to get on with life!"

"But you can't." It's as much a question as a statement, and Amanda stiffens.

"...You don't think I can do it either, do you?" she hisses, drawing back and pulling the child with her. "Why did I even bother-"

"Amanda, stop!" Fowler snaps. "I don't think; I _know_ you can't do this! But you came here looking for help, and goddamnit I want to help you!" He heaves a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face and head. "You are so like your mother... I watched her go through this same thing with you when your father left. He decided he didn't want a kid, but your mother, my sister, was already pregnant and refused to give you up, so... one day he was there, the next he wasn't. And my sister was too damn proud to go to anyone for help until she almost died working herself to the bone. I'm not gonna let that happen to you, Amy; I can't just sit by and watch you put everything into these boys until you keel over!"

"I don't need your help, Uncle Jeff! I don't need _anybody's_ help!"

Gavin couldn't watch any longer; pushing past Tina and Hank, he zips around the corner and down the hall to get between Fowler and Amanda.

"Don't you talk to Fowler like that!" he shouts, raging at the way she's treating him.

Amanda's eyes widen and her mouth falls open with a shriek. She scrambles backward, letting go of the child's hand to swat at Gavin.

"Gav-! Amy, no!" Fowler lunges forward, too late; Amanda's hand catches Gavin and flings him into the wall. He plummets to the floor, and Amanda drags the child to the other side of the entry hall.

"Oh! Ew! What on earth is that thing?? Disgusting!!"

Tina and Hank zoom out of hiding as Fowler kneels and gently scoops the dazed, aching fairy onto his hand, being careful of Gavin's sensitive, delicate wings.

"Are you alright, Gavy?" Tina asks anxiously, perching daintily on Fowler's wrist.

"Get up, Reed Boy," Hank grumps, almost tumbling off Fowler's fingers when he lands. "You can take more than that!"

"Gavin?" Fowler prompts, gently nudging the fairy's side with a fingernail. Gavin groans, wings fluttering quickly in pain and unease, and Fowler breathes a soft sigh of relief, cupping his other hand around the fairies to protect them.

"What _is_ that??" Amanda demands again, abhorrent.

"None of your concern, Amy," Fowler says sternly, turning slightly so she can't see them. "If you truly don't want my help, go. I won't stop you. If you want my help, I'll be more than happy to take the boys whenever I'm not working. All you have to do is ask. I'll be in the kitchen." And with that, he turns away to tend to Gavin.

...

They didn't see Amanda again, and Gavin is just fine with that.

"She broke my wing!" he complains for quite possibly the millionth time in the past twelve years.

"Shut up," Hank grumbles, covering his head with his own wings and then deciding better of it to pull the tiny fluff of pillow over his head instead.

"Come on, Gavy, it wasn't that bad," Tina chuffs, feet dangling over the edge of her own little bed on the shelf above Fowler's.

Fowler himself is in the other room, on the phone with the older of the two boys that were with Amanda that day. Connor, they learned the first time he called, when his little brother Niles got sick and Amanda was too busy to realise it yet. Fowler helped him figure out that Niles just had a really bad cold and told him how to take care of his little brother, and since then, Connor makes a point of calling Fowler whenever things get bad enough that Amanda can't handle it. And every time he calls, Gavin rants about the day he was thrown against a wall.

"It was, too!" Gavin persists. "I couldn't fly for a month!"

"Gavin, seriously," Tina says shortly. "Enough already."

"You'd still be complaining if you were the one that got hit!"

"Twelve years later?" Hank scoffs, muffled by his pillow.

"Yeah, I think it's time you put it behind you already," Tina agrees.

"Like h-"

"No, Connor!" Fowler blurts loudly over the phone as he paces past the bedroom door. The fairies immediately perk up in interest, listening both with ears and with fae senses. "Do you understand what you'd be subjecting Niles to if you left now??"

"I can't do it anymore, Uncle Jeff," Connor replies firmly, a deep seated ache in his voice made more prominent by the fairies' sharp senses. "She's too much. At this rate, I won't even be able to finish high school."

"And what about Niles?" Fowler presses again.

"...She's got a soft spot for him; _he's_ her baby, not me."

"You're _both_ her babies; don't you see that?" Fowler's voice is strained in a way that makes all three fairies anxious. "She wa- She wants what's b- best f-" His words start to slur together, an indecipherable string of sounds, and the fairies exchange a fearful glance.

"Uncle Jeff?" Connor prompts, worry rising high in his voice.

"She wan-... wansbes..." A thump echoes ominously through the house as Fowler stumbles into something, and immediately all three fairies lung out of their beds and fly frantically to him, just in time to see him collapse in the hall, phone clattering across the hardwood.

"Uncle Jeff?? Uncle Jeff!!" Connor's panic is mimicked in the fairies, who land on or around Fowler, anxiously trying to wake him up.

He doesn't respond.

Connor hangs up, and Gavin scowls as he scurries up to Fowler's head, grabbing his ear.

"Fowler! Fowler, wake up! Please!"

Tina flutters to his neck and presses her hands to his pulse. The wash of white terror over her features is more than enough.

"We gotta do something!" Hank says, fearful and desperate. "We gotta- Our magic! The way we make plants thrive! Will that help?"

"It's our only shot," Gavin says grimly, moving up to Fowler's temple. "Tina stay there, Hank get as close to his heart as you can." He waits the few agonising seconds it takes Hank to scramble over Fowler's back to get in position. "Good. Everyone put your all into it; if we can keep him alive by pure force of will, he's gonna be healthier than a younger man, got it? Now!"

On cue, the trio of fairies pour their soothing earth magic into Fowler, trying desperately to help him, fix him, _heal_ him.

How long, none of them can say. But they hear sirens grow closer, becoming unbearably loud and terrifying. Their magic is drained, and they have to go back to their plants; they aren't running; they aren't afraid; they just need to be with their plants for a bit, that's all.

They flit weakly down the hall and out of sight as other humans enter the house... _invading_. This is supposed to be a sanctuary, and these humans come barging in without permission!

If only Gavin had thought to grow a fairy ring around the property. Then anyone who stepped inside without invitation would be subject to his power.

Worse, they take him; they take Fowler. They scoop him up and spirit him away so quickly that Gavin grudgingly admits to himself that he's impressed; a fairy could hardly do better.

He and the others reinvigorate themselves within the bounds of their precious plants; Gavin in his Reeds, Tina with her Lilies, Hank amongst his Thistles...

And Fowler has yet to return.

They go back to the house, scour every inch for any sign that Fowler came back even for a moment; any sign that he lives.

Day passes into night.

One day becomes two. Three. Five. Ten.

Twenty-seven days later, someone finally enters the house. Instantly, three eager fairies race to the entrance, excited to greet...

Amanda. And an unfamiliar man in a suit.

"How long will it take?" Amanda asks succinctly.

"Depends on how much he had," the man answers, adjusting glasses on his nose and raising a clipboard. "I'll do a cursory inspection of his belongings today, and tomorrow I'll send the guys to do a comprehensive inventory for auction. Are you sure there's nothing you want to keep?"

"I'm sure," Amanda says shortly. "Sell everything, and auction the house to whoever will take it; I want nothing to do with it." Glancing around and checking outside the open front door, she leans in, expression taut. "This place is haunted by... _things_. My uncle called them fairies, but I'm not entirely sure he wasn't going a bit off the rails in recent years."

"Fairies?" the man echoes sceptically. "Uh huh. Well. I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Call me when you finish," Amanda says, handing over a key and walking out.

Gavin turns a horrified look on his friends; they look as sick as he feels.

"She's..." Tina begins, breaking off in disbelief.

"She's selling _everything_ ," Hank says for her, tone blank. "That means..." Gavin nods, trying vainly to push down the growing despair inside him.

"Yeah," he whispers, hating the words and hating everything that caused them, "Fowler is dead."

...

There's a certain kind of agony in watching every piece of Fowler's life disappear one by one. The china set Hank almost broke the first time they entered the house. The old couch in the living room where Tina liked to perch and watch the world turn past Fowler's immaculate front lawn. The old plastic shoebox that was used to nurse Gavin back to health. The tiny beds Fowler made by hand, unique to each of them. The painting he commissioned years ago of the Garden in all its majesty.

Everything, piece by piece.

Gavin hates it. Every time someone comes to take and sell another item, he hexes their shoes to catch on every root in their path, or lead them away from where they're going so they get lost. But it doesn't stop them; every day, more and more pieces of Fowler's life disappear, until the only proof that he ever existed is the Garden itself.

The woven spell of comfort and peace has become one of fear and dark omens; the Garden is no longer a pleasant, welcoming place, but rather, a place of dark power and ill will. Flowers die, green fades, colours become stale and blend together; life turns brittle, almost creepy.

Hank leaves first. He doesn't say a word; simply follows a seed carried by the wind to find some other place where he can take root. Tina stays for a long time after, but with every passing day, she grows weaker as the unattended pond grows thick with sludge and trash, clogging her lilies and stealing her power. It makes her irritable, and she fights with Gavin more and more often.

"I'm tired of all your ranting!"

"Then leave already! Just like everyone else!"

"Fuck you, you goddamn mosquito! Unlike somebody, I still give a shit what happens to you!"

"So you're just gonna sit around here until you die??"

Whenever they get to that point, she stops responding and goes back to her few remaining lily pads. And then one day, the last lily pad dies, and Gavin weeps over Tina's body as her life dwindles to nothing, her existence melting along with it until all that remains is a sprinkle of fairy dust.

The house is sold.

Bitter and angry at the humans for taking everything he loved, Gavin goes to the house to see who bought it.

An elderly couple. They only step into the backyard once, a month or so after moving in, and then they hire a landscaping company to come in and clear out the Garden. Raging, Gavin attacks anyone who enters the yard, and then haunts the house until the old couple finally decides they can't handle it and moves out, putting the house back up for sale.

Someone manages to get into the Garden during one of Gavin's few rests, and they tear up half the Garden, ripping out every single thistle plant, removing many of the food plants, and draining the pond to clean everything out, leaving it an empty pit, before Gavin wakes and almost breaks their legs chasing them out.

That night, he wails to the moon for the loss of his last mementos, cries out in such heartbreaking agony that every living thing in the Garden screams with him.

He doesn't sleep again.

The loss of rest weakens him, keeping him bound so tightly to his reeds that he can barely get up the strength to reach the corners of the Garden, and thus, when the house is sold once again, he must settle for making their lives a living hell only when they enter the Garden.

It's a man. Far younger than Fowler, and pale-skinned, with a calculating appearance. He doesn't run in fear, as others have, but rather retreats and observes.

Gavin despises him.

The next day, the man returns, but doesn't retreat when Gavin springs unholy terrors upon him. He weathers it with surprising ease, and draws Gavin out to the opposite edge of the still-empty pond. Gavin's assault grows weaker, but no less fierce. Then he leaves, and Gavin allows himself a short, partial rest, because he must; because such ferocity has a cost, and one he can no longer afford.

A few days later, the man returns, and again Gavin launches his assault, throwing everything he has at the man; the cost will be worth it, he thinks, if he can get this human to leave for good.

Abruptly, his strength is ripped from him, and he collapses in _pain_. Turning, he stares in horror as another man rips another reed from the ground, sending white-hot lightning through his body. Terrified and furious, he unleashes a banshee shriek that makes both men cringe and scramble out of the Garden.

Gavin drags himself back to his remaining reeds, sobbing in physical and emotional _agony_. This is all he has left, and still he failed. Again.

He failed Fowler. He failed Hank. He failed Tina; oh, Tina! He lost everything, and in his rage, he failed his own self.

He doesn't leave his reeds. The next time the man returns with his partner to try and coax him out, he ignores them. They rip up a gardenia, and he lets them. They start tearing apart the Garden ― _his_ Garden, his only remaining link to everyone and everything he ever cared about ― and he lets them.

Only when they come near his reeds does he attack, taking a slightly less direct route this time and using illusions and misdirection to force them to avoid his precious reeds, the last thing he has left, truly.

The Garden is replaced with manicured lawns and precise topiaries. Only the pond remains, but that too is changed; the bottom is lined with tightly caulked bricks, and the edges with plaster trims. A horrid fountain spews water skyward in the centre, and brightly coloured fish are set loose into the freshly filled pond.

Gavin and his Reeds are surrounded by the monstrosities of humankind's manipulation of nature.

Years pass. The house is sold. And sold again. And again.

The "Garden" changes a little more every time, and it costs Gavin; every year, his reeds wither further, and every year, more die. No matter how he cajoles them, tends them, heals them, nothing he does helps. Without the physicality of human hands to take care of them, the reeds can’t grow as they once did. He is giving everything of himself, but it only delays the inevitable; with every passing year, every month, every week... with every _day_ that passes, he feels himself lose more strength, more power.

With every new owner, and every new change, his reeds continue to die, and with them, so does Gavin.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, Uncle Jeff..." A soft voice wakes Gavin from his weak sleep. The house has been empty for many weeks, and the "Garden" is overgrown with weeds, abandoned for the time being; Gavin is too weak to try and coax the weeds into shifting better soil toward his last, sickly reed, too tired to even care.

He's dying, he knows it ― soon he'll be nothing more than a handful of fairy dust ― and he can't bring himself to care if that moment comes sooner because some unruly human yanks up the last reed.

"I'm so sorry..." the human goes on, voice growing clearer as he gets closer. "Look what's happened to your garden... I'm so, so sorry; I could have prevented this if I'd had the courage to confront her sooner. There's no thistles anymore, Uncle Jeff, no lily pads, no..." He breaks off, and Gavin absently wonders when he's going to leave; dying in peace would be better than listening to this idiot human talk to someone who isn't there.

A niggling sense of... something... something vaguely familiar, tugs at him, but he's too tired and weak to try and piece it out.

He feels the human reaching for his reed, his last, withering little reed, and a small part of him rears up, ready to fight to protect his home, his being, his very essence. But only a small part. He's too tired to fight anymore.

The human touches a fingertip lightly to the sagging tip of the reed, drags his fingers gently down toward the base of it. Gavin tries to relax, to prepare himself for the last shredding agony that will rip him from the world.

"Oh..." The fingers move away from the reed... and brush against Gavin's withered wings. "You're still here... You're... Ohh..." There's relief in his voice, a teary sort of joy. Gavin pries open his eyes and manages a fleeting glance at the human before his lashes flutter shut again ― ever so tall; slender, but lean with purposeful muscle; faint freckles on pale-tan skin; large grey-blue eyes tender with concern and surprise; dark locks combed back, a tiny curl escaping at the front.

"I know you," he whispers, stunned. "I remember you; I... You yelled at Mother. And she hit you. I remember that! Ohh, you poor thing..."

Gavin takes offense to that, but what can he do when he's too weak to move, much less snap or attack?

"Uncle Jeff said in his will that you would be the most stubborn," the human says quietly. "He said 'the reeds may take some getting used to,' but asked me to take care of them anyway. I don't know how to take care of a fairy, but I guess... if you're Gavin of the Reeds, then I can take care of the reeds, and that'll help you. Right?" He gently pokes at Gavin's leg, with no response beyond a slight flick of the hand. "But I don't want to just leave you out here... Oh! Hold on..."

The human sits back and digs into his pockets for a minute, pulls out a handkerchief that he quickly folds in half, half, and thirds. He sets it beside Gavin and gingerly pinches his hands to lift him partly onto the cloth. Gavin makes a tiny noise of protest, but the human doesn't seem to hear; he coaxes the rest of Gavin onto the cloth and then carefully lifts it onto his hand.

A tearing sensation burns through Gavin the moment he's moved away from his reed, and he lets out a strangled shout, writhing. The human hisses and almost drops him, hesitating before lowering him back to the ground by the reed.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean- I didn't know it would hurt to leave your reeds; I'm so, so sorry... Just... Nn... Okay. Okay, Niles, think, damnit..."

Niles? That rings a bell, and Gavin can't think why.

"Um... okay. If... I have to take care of the reeds... then I should... I should clear away these other plants, right? Yeah, okay... Okay! Um... I'll be right back."

Really, Gavin would be delighted if the stupid human never comes back, but he certainly isn't in a position to do anything regardless. He doesn't know how long he waits, but when the human ― Niles ― comes back, a brand new, shiny metal trowel digs into the dirt and pulls up some of the thick clumps of cudweed and nutgrass that have been stealing nutrients from Gavin's reed. Within minutes, he can already breathe a little more easily, and a taunting sort of relief washes through him.

Niles works for several hours to clear out lots of room around Gavin's reed, and then sits there looking up things with his phone and muttering plans to himself. The sun, high in the sky when he arrived, is nearing the horizon before he finally gets up and dusts himself off.

"Okay, I think I have a plan," he says to no one in particular. "I'll be back tomorrow with Connor, and maybe we can finish clearing out the garden. Then maybe I can try to plant some more reeds...? I don't know; I'll figure it out tomorrow." He crouches down beside Gavin and gently strokes his leg with a fingertip. "Are you going to be okay tonight? Please tell me you're going to be okay; I don't want you to die. Please don't die; I promise I'll be back tomorrow. Promise." Standing, he rubs his palms on his pants nervously. "Promise. Okay. Okay; I can do this. I'll be back tomorrow... I'll be back, Uncle Jeff; promise."

...

He returns the next day with a shorter man who looks almost identical, but with oddly familiar, enormous brown eyes, like tree bark.

That's what makes it click.

Connor. Niles. 'Uncle Jeff.'

Fowler.

These are the boys that Amanda brought by oh so many years ago. Gavin eyes them warily, still lying on Niles' handkerchief; if that woman raised them, they must not be all that different.

They both pull on gloves and wordlessly begin working; Connor pulls up weeds leaving almost nothing but grass and dandelions behind, and Niles clears away the piles of pulled plants, scraping and straightening up the dirt patches left behind.

Neither of them comes very close to Gavin's reed.

Around midday, Connor stops and offers to make some lunch, which Niles quickly accepts, and as soon as Connor is back inside, Niles scampers over to Gavin.

It's a strange thought, so tall and well built a human scampering, but Gavin can't think of any better word for it.

"Hey," Niles whispers, crouching and reaching out to touch Gavin's wing. He withdraws the instant Gavin bears his teeth with a low growl. "Sorry... I'm not trying to hurt you... Are you okay? Feeling any better? We're going to plant some more reeds this evening, once we figure out what kind these are. But um..." Niles glances over his shoulder at the house, frowning uneasily. "Connor... doesn't believe you exist. He thinks I'm making you up, so... I don't want him to see you. In case... I don't know; in case he freaks out or something... So... is there... any way...? Can I, like... put you in my pocket or something?" He pats the front of his button up, indicating the pocket in question.

Gavin bears his teeth again, growling a little louder this time. Niles grimaces, but doesn't give in; he spends several long minutes trying to convince Gavin otherwise, only to receive growls and snarls in reply.

"Niles! Come eat," Connor calls, making him jump, much to Gavin's satisfaction.

"Coming!" Niles calls back. Then he looks back down at Gavin, biting his lip. "...I'll be right back."

Gavin almost hopes Connor will find him first. Maybe the older of the brothers will 'freak out' and destroy his reed so he can finally die and leave this shitty world.

He immediately retracts that hope the moment Connor comes near his reed a little while later. The older brother crouches beside the reed, reaching for Niles’ handkerchief, only to suddenly yelp and jolt backward, falling on his backside and scrambling backward. Gavin shivers anxiously at the loud noise, drawing in on himself and half expecting Connor to do what Amanda did.

But suddenly Niles is there, injecting himself between them.

“Stop! Don’t hurt him!”

“ _Him_??” Connor squeaks, shocked. “What _is_ that thing??”

“Gavin,” Niles says, a note of petulance in his voice. He shifts to glance at the fairy, smiling slightly. “I told you he exists. Just like Uncle Jeff said.”

“Uncle Jeff is dead, Niles,” Connor reminds pointedly. “You don’t have to keep playing this game or whatever... It’s been thirteen years!”

“I know,” Niles says quietly. “But it’s not a game... Gavin is a fairy, and he’s real, and I’m going to take care of him, just like Uncle Jeff did.” Connor stares at him for a moment, expression cycling disbelief, amazement, awe, unease, hope...

He shakes his head and scrubs his hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and taking a deep breath that he lets out slowly. Gavin doesn’t know whether to be grateful that he’s giving in, or to hate it.

“Okay, fine, whatever,” he says finally. “You said you wanted to plant more reeds?”

...

Another month passes. The brothers manage to get their hands on some more reeds like Gavin's, and Niles plants them mostly by himself, humming encouragements to Gavin while he works with seemingly endless patience. Eventually he even takes Gavin's snarls and nips with little more than a twitch or a tiny jolt of startled pain; instinctive reaction, not genuine pain or fear. However, the more reeds are planted, the stronger Gavin gets, and the more volatile he becomes.

"You've got to stop this, Niles," Gavin overhears from inside the house after a particularly nasty bite to the younger brother's wrist.

"You don't even really believe me when I say he's a real fairy," Niles retorts, frustrated. "Why should I listen to anything you say?"

"...Niles, we're talking about Gordon, not-"

"His name is Gavin!"

"Okay, whatever; we're talking about the fairy, not me leaving."

"Connor, you left me with Mom. Mom! And you really expect me to trust you so easily? You're my brother, and I love you, but that's the only reason I asked for your help; not because I trust you. If you're just gonna parrot back to me the same things Mom said, then you can leave. The door is right there."

"Niles..."

"I mean it! Leave! Uncle Jeff left the house and garden to _me_ , not you! And if you hadn't left, stripping me of any sort of protection, then maybe we could have stopped her from selling the house in the first place!"

"Niles, calm down..."

"No!"

Gavin doesn't even have to be by the window to hear them now, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he pokes his head around the frame, pressing his nose to the glass to see what's going on inside.

Connor is sitting at a small card table in the middle of an empty kitchen, a first aid kit open on the table in front of him. Niles is standing across from him, angry, but on the verge of tears, his wrist neatly bandaged.

For so imposing a man, he's remarkably sensitive.

"I'm not gonna calm down, Connor!" he says firmly, despite his quivering lip. "You abandoned me to Mom's whims! I can't even see a black woman now without immediately panicking, and it's been almost ten years since I last saw her! I have only one reason to thank you for that, and it's that I learned really fast how to get my way through patience and planning. I owe you nothing, Connor, and if you don't want to help me with this, then I don't want you here." He starts to move away, but comes right back. "I'm not giving up on Gavin. He is the only thing left that Uncle Jeff cared about, and I refuse to let him die because anyone is telling me to stop. If that means I'm bitten to hell, then so be it! I'd rather accept a fairy curse than stand back and let him die."

Connor doesn't respond, and Niles doesn't look at him. He crosses over to the sink, and Gavin ducks out of sight, but hears the water running, filling up a glass.

"I'm going out to the garden," Niles says finally, sounding worn out now that his fire has cooled. "If you're not coming out with me, I don't want to see you here when I'm done for the day."

Gavin zips back to his reeds, peeking out as Niles exits the house, pulling on gloves, and comes toward him.

"Hey, Gavin," he greets with a soft smile as he settles in to finish planting the last of the new reeds.

Gavin flutters up to perch on his hand, and he goes still, likely expecting another bite. But Gavin just stands there, staring narrowly at him for a long moment. Then he suddenly sticks his tongue at the man, pulling down in his cheek with his middle finger to expose the inside of his eyelid, and flits back to his reeds, disappearing between the stalks.

Niles blinks, then smiles, then laughs. Without commenting, he gets right back to work.

...

A few days later, Connor returns. Niles is hard at work tearing out the linings of the pond after having drained it by hand yesterday, and he doesn't even notice Connor until Gavin darts over and grabs his ear, yanking roughly.

"Ow! Gavin! What did I say about the face?" Niles begins, carefully waving him away. Then he sees Connor and his expression hardens. Gavin can't help a smirk of glee at the thought of the brothers fighting again. "What are you doing here, Connor? I told you not-"

"Not to come back, yes, I know," Connor interrupts, raising his hands. "Just... hear me out, okay?" Niles scowls but puts down the crowbar and hammer and takes off his gloves.

"You have five minutes."

"I won't even take that long," Connor promises. "I just wanted to give you these." While Niles is still clambering out of the pond, he pulls a large box from the bag he brought and opens the lid. Gavin perches on Niles' hat, keeping just out of immediate sight, but peering around to see what's in the box as Niles gets closer.

"What...?" Niles begins, confused, even as Gavin's eyes widen and his jaw drops. Before Connor can reply, Gavin dives down, startling him, and lands on _his bed_.

Connor almost drops the box, and Gavin clings to his bed as Niles snatches at it, holding it level.

"What th-!"

"Gavin... Are these...?" Niles breaks off, hopeful, but he doesn't even get a chance to clarify; his budding joy is snipped off as he realises Gavin is crying. "Gavin?"

Refusing to acknowledge the man, Gavin slides down off his bed and kneels beside Tina's, laying his hands on the comforter and sobbing at the memory of his friend's death. He drops his head down and buries his face in the cloth, trying to muffle his sorrow. He tightens his grip on the cloth when the box shifts, coming to rest on the ground.

"Gavin... What's wrong?" Niles asks gently, reaching out to brush his fingertip ever so softly against Gavin's head. The fairy slaps his finger away and turns a ferocious snarl on him, tears still streaking his reddened cheeks.

"You... You filthy humans!" he hisses, stunning the brothers, neither of whom have heard him speak; Niles was beginning to think he couldn't, until now.

"Gavin..."

"Don't you fucking say my name!" he shouts, wings flicking a frantic beat in anger and agony. "You fucking humans killed her! You tried to kill me! You're all the same; all vile, putrid fucking monsters with no goddamn regard for the world around you! Just go away! Leave me alone!" He's sobbing again by now; he drops his head, wails loudly against the cloth, clings now to the last piece he has of Tina. He doesn't notice the brothers exchange a short, barely whispered conversation, only reels back with a furious hiss when Niles touches his fluttering wing.

"What happened to them?" the younger brother asks softly. "There were three of you, right? Tina of the Lilies? Hank of the Thistles?"

"Fuck you!" Gavin snarls wetly, too distraught to organise his thoughts long enough to hex either of them.

"Please, Gavin, I just want to help."

"Like that old couple that wanted _help_ making the garden look nice? Like those fuckers who threw garbage into the garden and clogged everything up with shit? Like that asshole who tricked me into leaving my reeds so someone else could rip them up? Like the goddamn bastards that destroyed my home and turned it into a sterile human-touched nightmare?? I don't need your help! I don't _want_ your help! I was happy enough to let my last reed perish so I could die with it! Just...! GO!!"

"No," Niles replies firmly. "I'm not leaving you like this."

"I will fucking hex you!"

"Then do it," he persists, leaning over the box. "Whatever you do to me, I'll take it. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I made a promise on Uncle Jeff's grave that I would do whatever it took to make this place look like it used to. Better, if I can."

"You can't bring her back," Gavin growls, glaring. "You can't bring either of them back! The Garden will never be the same!"

"It doesn't have to be the same," Connor speaks up softly, glancing at Niles, who gives him a wary side eye in return. "It just has to be home."

...

Connor found the beds for sale online and recognised Fowler's handiwork, so bought them for reasons he still doesn't quite understand. After Niles snapped at him to leave, he remembered the beds and spent a long time trying to find them again in hopes of making up with his brother.

It's working, not so fortunately for Gavin. The brothers are talking again, and by the end of the week, things have settled between them to an amiable level at least.

Gavin hasn’t said a word since his outburst, and he refuses to leave the vicinity of the beds, which Niles placed in the currently empty window box beneath the kitchen window, which used to hold rosemary and thyme, before someone replaced them with tulips, which were half dead when Niles cleaned out the box.

In spite of all his anger at the brothers, Gavin can’t deny that they’ve done wonders on the Garden; with every passing day, every week for several months, it looks more and more like a sanctuary again. There’s nothing to be done about the willow branches that were trimmed back so far the trees are almost unrecognisable as willows, or about the cottonwood that was entirely chopped down and taken out, but Connor brings a wisteria sapling one day, and the brothers spend a good portion of the morning discussing where to plant it, eventually deciding on a spot that will let it grow out over the space between the house and the pond, which has been bedded with clay and rocky soil and refilled with crystal clear water. Niles broke the disgusting fountain to pieces and used those pieces to make irregularly shaped stepping stones on short pedestals in a lazy line through the middle of the pond ― he’s remarkably proficient with his hands.

Within six months of Niles’ first appearance in Gavin’s territory, the Garden has been completely revitalised; everything is green and flowering, and many of the plants are as useful as they are pretty.

One of the last things Connor brings to the proverbial table is an old fashioned wooden bench swing with a lattice cover, which they eventually piece together beneath a willow. And the very next day, he brings a bucket. Niles’ reaction piques Gavin’s curiosity, and he flutters up out of the window box to get a better angle on what’s inside the bucket.

Water lilies. Like Tina’s.

“I’ll let you plant these,” Connor smiles, setting the bucket at Niles’ feet. “It’s your garden, after all.”

“Oh, Connor...” Niles looks like he might cry, and that shakes Gavin from his shock. Furious, he darts down between them.

“No!” he shouts, startling them as he perches on the rim of the bucket. “You can’t! I won’t let you!”

“Gavin?” Niles says, concern creasing his features as he kneels. “Why not?”

“Yeah, really,” Connor frowns. “I thought you’d be happy to have lilies back in the Garden.”

“She won’t come back!” Gavin snaps, burning with anger and despising them for taunting him like this.

“...Okay,” Niles says slowly. “How do you know?”

“She was born on a Summer Solstice,” Gavin growls, baring his teeth. “When _Fowler_ planted her. You’re not Fowler!”

“Summer Solstice...” Connor checks his watch. “That’s... what, seven days away? The 21st of June, right? We could try...?” Niles rubs at his jaw, thinking, and Gavin stares at them in abject horror.

“Wh- No! No, I forbid it!!” he yells, wings beating frantically. “I will hex you!”

“You keep saying that,” Connor scoffs, rolling his eyes, “and I have yet to suffer anything unusually bad.” Niles stifles a grin, clearing his throat and running his thumb along his lip to hide it.

Gavin glares at them both and throws his hands out over the lilies, pouring his magic into them. They blossom and expand quickly, growing rapidly and then dying out. Tubers form the recognisable disks, some of which raise off the water, and buds come into view, blossoming and starting the cycle over again. It continues, over and over again, several times in just a few seconds, and every time, there are more pads, more blossoms, until they’re clearly choking each other.

“Gav- Gavin, what are you doing? Stop!” When he doesn’t, Niles snatches him off the rim of the bucket, breaking the magic. Startled by the first rough handling the man has ever treated to him, Gavin goes still in Niles’ hand and stares up at him in shock.

Immediately, Niles’ hold on him loosens, cupping him gently in both trembling hands. “I- I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to hurt you. But... there’s a chance you could get Tina back. Or at least someone like her; a friend. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want someone around like you? Someone who _isn’t_ human?”

He does. He really, truly does.

But no one can ever replace Tina. Or even Hank.

“...There is no one... like me,” he says quietly, blinking back the burn. “There never will be. I’m alone. And I always will be.”

“No,” Niles whispers, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. I don’t care how much you hate me, I won’t ever leave you.” He touches the lightest of kisses to the top of Gavin’s bowed head, and the fairy looks up just in time to see a tear streak down Niles’ cheek to hang on his jaw, a tiny liquid diamond.

Without knowing why, he reaches out; the tear falls, splashes across his fingers... crystallises, like a sculpture in his hand.

The real shock follows; thoughts, emotions, memories that are not his own flood Gavin’s mind, pouring over him like a waterfall, soaking him, drowning him.

_**Pride. “No, that’s wrong! Like this!” Shame.** _

_**Contentment. “Niles, Connor... Uncle Jeff... Uncle Jeff died last night.” Confusion, concern. “He had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital, but there were... complications. They couldn’t save him.” Second hand agony.** _

_**Sorrow. “Hey nerd; heard your big bro ran away. Guess he couldn’t stand you, could he?” Anger.** _

_**Grim satisfaction. “Mr. Stern, go to the principal’s office at once! I have told you far too many times this year that this behaviour is unacceptable!” Unease. “We will be talking to your mother about this.” Fear.** _

_**Broken trust, despair. “Where did you get this? It doesn’t matter; give it to me. I should have burned it when I found it in the first place!” Terror, determination.** _

_**Anxiety. “Niles? What are you- Why- How did you even find me? Never mind; come in out of the rain.” Hope, hesitant love.** _

Gavin gasps and scrambles back, dropping the crystal tear and almost falling off Niles’ hands; the hasty shifting of fingers is the only reason he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry!” Niles says quickly, nervous and apologetic. “I won’t do that again; please be careful!”

“Wh- No.” Gavin shakes his head, wings flicking uneasily as he processes the fading memories. “No, I...”

How is he supposed to explain this? That he somehow got inside Niles’ head and understands ― really, truly _understands_ him.

He can’t.

Closing his mouth, he jumps out of Niles’ hands and flits quickly back to his bed, burrowing under the covers as the use of so much magic catches up and leaves him unable to push back against the swell of emotion caused by the realisation that he... actually, somehow... _likes_ a _human_.

...

The next few days are tense, strained. Connor stays away mostly, giving them space to figure things out themselves. Niles clips and trims the water lilies, preparing them to be moved to the pond, but he doesn't do it yet. And he doesn't search out Gavin anymore either; he used to make a point of offering little candies or pieces of buttered bread or saucers of milk or cream.

Gavin refuses to admit he misses it.

The morning of the solstice, Connor returns, bringing a loaf of fresh baked bread at Niles' request. Today, Niles does search out Gavin.

"Hey," he greets quietly, timid. He tears off a piece of bread and lays it inside the box, next to Gavin's bed, where the fairy is curled up in a ball beneath the covers. "We're going to transplant the water lilies in a minute. Do you want to come watch?" Gavin doesn't answer, and Niles sighs after a moment. "Okay... Well, the offer's open, if you want... To join us, I mean. You can still join us if you want, whenever. Yeah... Okay."

As soon as he's gone, Gavin shoves back the covers and grabs the piece of bread, gnawing on it until he finishes the last crumb. Then he pokes his head over the edge of the window box, in time to see Connor give his bigger little brother a comforting pat on the shoulder. He watches them carefully move the water lily pots from the bucket to the pond, spreading them out to give them room to grow.

Unable to help himself, Gavin flies a little closer, ducking behind flowers to keep out of sight, and then a little closer, and closer still, until he darts into his reeds by the edge of the pond. Peeking out between them, he eyes the brothers while they finish settling the last pot into place, making sure the pads aren't waterlogged. Connor sits back, satisfied, but Niles double checks each one thoroughly, intent on ensuring they're perfect.

Gavin looks up at the sky. The sun is directly overhead, the same as it was when Tina was born. He looks back at Niles.

Nothing. He doesn't feel the soft waves of intensity pulsing out from the man, like he did with Fowler. He doesn't feel the tingle of anticipation burning through him with inexplicable joy.

He only feels... normal. The same as he has for weeks, months. And now, a little disappointed. Cheated, even.

Sighing, he settles deeper into his reeds and merely watches while Niles checks the last one, one more time. Watches him sink his arms into the water, jostle the leaves as he adjusts the pot below, pause, gasp.

Gavin bolts to his feet at the faint thrum in his core. Niles is staring into the water, and Gavin can't help himself; he darts past a perplexed Connor and crashes onto Niles' shoulder, barely hanging on while he leans out over the water to see what Niles sees.

To the unknowing eye, it's just a water lily bud. It grows quickly, like the display Gavin put on a few days ago, but nothing else changes. The quick blossoming flower isn't even a part of the plant; it sits separate, floating daintily on the water.

The thrumming in Gavin's core grows to a heady pounding, threatening to make his entire body vibrate. He clings to Niles' shoulder, desperately hoping...

"Oh!" Niles breathes, drawing back a bit as the lily opens up, revealing a slender little form lying within.

Gavin stops breathing entirely. He drops from Niles' shoulder to flutter down to the lily, where the tiny, newborn fairy is just opening her eyes.

"Tina...?" Gavin murmurs hesitantly, holding back his hope now as she looks up at him in blank confusion. A second passes, and his heart sinks; she may look exactly like Tina, but she's not his best friend. Barely containing his despair, he flutters toward his reeds.

"Shit, dumbass, I don't even get a chance to sort through old memories before you give up on me?" He freezes. "God, you're insufferable as always, Gav."

Joy explodes through him in a burst of bright white, and the next thing he knows, he's stumbling off the lily with Tina, splashing into the water, popping back up with a loud, delighted laugh. Tina slaps water at him, and he slaps back, and they're both laughing, and they grab each other in a tight hug, wings fluttering as easily through water as through air.

Niles scoops them carefully out of the water, cradling them carefully in his hands.

“It worked,” he breathes, awed and on the verge of tears. “It really worked!” Gavin, supporting a suddenly uneasy Tina, looks up at him, wings flicking happily.

“Thank you,” he says softly, stunning Niles, who stares at him as the tears gather and drip from his cheek, trickle to his jaw, hang like little crystals. Gavin grabs Tina’s wrist and tugs, jutting her hand out just in time to catch a tear. She freezes for an instant, and then jolts backward with a gasp, steadied by Gavin’s arm around her shoulders. He catches the solid gem that formed from Niles’ joyous tear and sets it gently on Niles’ palm.

“You...” Tina meets Niles’ anxious, hopeful gaze, and a slow smile crosses her dainty features. “Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it. _Thank you_ for being there when Gavin needed you most, and for not giving up on him.”

“It was my pleasure,” Niles breathes, too delighted to do more than focus on not dropping them.

Tina gives Gavin a look that speaks volumes, and he wrinkles his nose, but she only has to give him a nudge before he nods agreement and lets go of her. His wings flutter, catching the light delicately as they lift him level with Niles’ wide blue-grey eyes, which close reflexively as Gavin touches a light kiss to the tip of Niles’ nose.

“A fairy blessing,” Tina explains. “You’ll always be safe from magic harm now.”

“I- than- thank you,” Niles stammers, beaming. “I don- I just... I just wanted to make things right again. Wan- I wanted to make it like it was for you...”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s like it was,” Gavin says, casting a glance at Connor, who’s watching them from a distance, settled on the bench swing with a faint smile. Niles follows his look and grins at his brother. Gavin lands on the younger brother’s shoulder, content for maybe the first time in over thirteen years. “It just has to be home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> That's it; no more! Finished, finito, el fin, it's over, there's no more!
> 
> ...I did warn you.


End file.
